Chapter 41 (Part 1)

Yu Zhengzheng’s last shred of rationality dissipated at his soft-spoken word.

Her ears were ringing, her once-pale earlobes now crimson, and her cheeks flushed as brightly as blooming roses.

Her mind exploded with dazzling fireworks, only to leave behind a blank void—she couldn’t remember a thing.

The silent room echoed only her slightly labored breaths.

Looking at her slightly tilted face, the beads of sweat trickling down her forehead, Rong Shang’s throat bobbed. He could hear his own strong, rhythmic heartbeat.

The open window let in a warm breeze. His raised fingers trembled slightly, the faint moisture on his fingertips gradually evaporating.

Though she was the one who had consumed the deer blood, he felt as though he, too, was ensnared by some spell.

Hengwu Xianjun had said that once the discomfort was relieved, everything would be fine.

So, after one moment, she should be okay now.

However, gazing at her dazed eyes, his mind involuntarily replayed her earlier words.

“Brother Xiao, could you… help me?”

Brother Xiao?

Brother Xiao…

The thought of Xiao Yuqing touching her that way sent a rush of heat to Rong Shang’s eyes.

What was so special about Xiao Yuqing that made her so utterly infatuated with him?

His narrowed eyes locked onto her crimson lips as he leaned forward, capturing them with a fierce bite.

The metallic tang of blood lingered on his tongue, the vibrant red staining his lips. She frowned, seemingly wanting to push him away.

But instead of resisting him, her defiance only darkened his expression, intensifying his actions.

Finding her flailing arms bothersome, Rong Shang used the robe’s sash to bind her wrists together above her head.

For the first time, he found his divine power to be inconvenient.

To avoid accidentally touching her bare skin, he had to maintain constant self-control. The thin layer of fabric between them was less than ideal, leaving him with a frustrating sense of detachment.

At last, he began to understand why the goddess had forsaken her divinity to be with the third prince of the East Emperor.

Whether it was due to having been relieved once or because the sharp pain from her lips had jolted her back to reality, Yu Zhengzheng seemed to regain some clarity.

Her dazed eyes searched his, unable to understand what she had done to provoke the man before her. “It hurts…”

Hearing her soft, vulnerable voice, Rong Shang’s long eyes lifted slightly, his movements pausing as his frosty gaze softened a fraction.

He braced one hand against the chaise, bringing his lips close to her ear. “Who am I?”

No titles—just the simple word I.

His voice was low, almost hypnotic, like a devil whispering in her ear.

Still in a daze, Yu Zhengzheng’s unfocused eyes couldn’t make out his features.

All she could see was the white robe he wore. Her lips moved faintly as if in confusion: “Senior Brother?”

Rong Shang was not pleased with this answer.

She didn’t know that he was her senior brother, making him no different from Xiao Yuqing in her eyes.

If there was any difference, it was that if she had called him Xiao Yuqing tonight, she would not have survived the night.

Through the barrier of his undergarments, Rong Shang teased her with a slight motion. “Who am I?”

He repeated the question, but she didn’t quite grasp it.

Her breathing grew heavier as if all her strength had been drained.

She struggled against her bindings, but with her arms tied above her head, she could only accept the god’s torment.

Yu Zhengzheng felt like a fish out of water, parched and desperate for relief. She pleaded, “Senior Brother, I beg you…”

He chuckled lowly and said, “Say my name.”

His name? Her brain had completely stopped functioning, and she could only instinctively call out, “Rong Shang… Rong Shang…”

When he had impersonated that man on Mount Penglai, Rong Shang had used his real name, so her calling it out didn’t surprise him.

Hearing her repeatedly call his name, the corners of his mouth lifted slightly, and his mood inexplicably brightened.

Rong Shang removed the barriers between them and inched forward slowly.

He lingered, observing the scene closely but made no move to act.

Perhaps it was a lesson he wanted to teach her, or maybe it was born out of spite, wanting her to experience the torment of being so close yet so far.

Like a cat playing with a mouse it had caught, he didn’t strike but instead watched her squirm in despair.

As expected, she was so distraught she seemed on the brink of breaking down.

His lips curled with satisfaction, tinged with a childish sense of triumph. Let her try getting close to Xiao Yuqing again after this.

As his teasing mood faded, he prepared to act in earnest. Yet suddenly, his smile froze.

She tilted her head and gently bit at his Adam’s apple. His body trembled violently, and in that moment, his resolve crumbled entirely.

He pushed her away forcefully and fled the room in a flustered panic.

Yu Zhengzheng hit the ground hard, stunned into silence. She stared blankly at the now-closed door, unable to comprehend what had just happened.

A warm breeze brushed her cheek, and the cicadas outside sang endlessly, their droning like a lullaby lulling her into a daze.

Lying on the beauty couch, her eyes slowly closed, and not long after, she drifted into a deep sleep.

Yu Zhengzheng slept soundly through the night, while outside, someone sat alone until dawn.

The man’s face bore an expression of defeat, his demeanor desolate, as if he had been beaten senseless.

Throughout the night, several savages sent by the Queen approached, only to be cut down into pieces by him, as though they were nothing more than mutton.

The next morning, Yu Zhengzheng awoke from a sweet dream.

Before she even opened her eyes, she felt a faint chill on her body. Some missing fragments of memory began resurfacing, leaving her mind in chaos.

Last night had been a blur; she couldn’t recall much. She vaguely remembered Rong Shang carrying her into a room and then… his hands…

Yu Zhengzheng suddenly sat up straight. Opening her eyes, she saw the room in disarray. Her white robe was intact, but her undergarments had been shredded into strips and discarded on the floor.

As she braced herself to get off the couch, her hand landed on something sticky.

Yu Zhengzheng squinted at her palm, hesitantly raised it to her nose, and sniffed lightly.

Her brows furrowed deeply. That unmistakable scent of sweet osmanthus… there was no mistaking what it was.

Disgusted, she shook her hand and looked down at her bare arm.

Noticing the intact red birthmark on her wrist—a virgin’s mark—she froze momentarily. What was going on?

Nothing had happened between them, so where did the sticky mess on the couch come from?

No matter how much she tried, she couldn’t figure it out. What made her even more frustrated was the state of her undergarments—now nothing but tatters. There was no way she could walk out in just a white robe with nothing underneath.

Resigning herself, Yu Zhengzheng retrieved some damp clothing from her storage bracelet. It was the set she had changed out of yesterday, still slightly damp from being left out overnight.

Damp clothes were better than nothing, so she reluctantly put them on.

Running her fingers through her hair, she instinctively reached for a hairpin to tie it up, only to pause mid-motion.

Yu Zhengzheng opened her storage bracelet and took out the hair growth serum given to her by the Ghost King the day before.

She examined the porcelain bottle and inadvertently glanced at another black porcelain bottle within the bracelet.

The black bottle was something the Seventh Prince of the South Sea had given her. He hadn’t told her what it was called, only that it could suppress the divine power within the Ghost King.

She didn’t know if the Seventh Prince’s words were true. For all she knew, it could be a potent poison designed to harm the Ghost King.

She poured out one of the pills, rolling it between her fingers.

Perhaps due to the heat, the pill had softened, leaving her fingerprints on its surface as she handled it.

Yu Zhengzheng returned the pills to the bottle, tossing it back into her storage bracelet, but this time, not in the private section.

Her storage bracelet was a high-grade artifact, with separate spaces for public and private items, much like a smartphone’s secure folder.

Initially, she had stored the black bottle in the private section, as she had once contemplated drugging him.

Now, she felt she had little use for it. If she couldn’t find an antidote after leaving the illusion realm, she’d track down the Seventh Prince and make him pay.

If worse came to worst, she’d use the poison to take him down with her.

Turning her attention to the Ghost King’s hair growth serum, Yu Zhengzheng found a bronze mirror in the room and applied the liquid to her scalp.

The bright red liquid resembled blood, and its faint scent confirmed her suspicions.

Frowning, she couldn’t fathom what he intended by giving her a bottle of blood as hair serum. Was he mocking her?

Just as she was about to curse him, she noticed the once-bald patch of her scalp sprouting black stubble before her very eyes.

The stubble quickly grew into long, silky black hair in mere moments.

The bald patch was completely restored, erasing all traces of the embarrassing bald spot.

Elated, Yu Zhengzheng grinned from ear to ear. She no longer needed to endure the appearance of a shaven Taoist nun.